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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23599969">Tape My Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelmedigeekfics/pseuds/marvelmedigeekfics'>marvelmedigeekfics</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:40:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23599969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelmedigeekfics/pseuds/marvelmedigeekfics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Relationships that form in the athletic training room are not allowed. Buck knows that. Eddie knows that. Everybody knows that. But it happens.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tape My Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Relationships that form in the athletic training room are not allowed. Buck knows that. Eddie knows that. Everybody knows that. But it happens. </p><p>—</p><p>Buck and Eddie spend a lot of time in the same room. Doing the same thing. They know the rules. So they stick to doing their jobs. Taping ankles. Listening to the griefs of their athletes. Watching the games. Looking in on practices. There’s times when there’s no one in the athletic training room for treatments, no games to preside over, and Eddie and Buck are alone. They fix the shelves, clean obsessively, but most of the time: they talk. They talk about Christopher, memories, and their athletes. After the third double header of the week and the twelve thousandth wipe down of the week, the work is finally done.</p><p>“Finally!” Buck sighs in relief.</p><p>“Can we agree that the ad needs to stop scheduling 3 home double headers on the same week? Especially 2 weeks before finals.” Eddie replies, stacking the rolls of prewrap back in the cabinet.</p><p>“We’ll have to take it up with her.” Buck chuckles to himself, wiping down the table. Again.</p><p>“How many times are you going to wipe down that table?”</p><p>“Can never be too clean. A lot of people sweat on these cesspools.”</p><p>“No kidding. Hand me a towel.” Eddie grabs another bottle of cleaner and sprays down the whirlpool.</p><p>“It’s 11pm and we’re cleaning. What is up with that?” Buck says, continuing to clean.</p><p>“It’s part of the job. Besides, it’s therapeutic.”</p><p>“Way better than fighting people, I suppose.”</p><p>“I thought we weren’t talking about that.”</p><p>Buck just laughs, and cleans the same spot he was cleaning 5 minutes ago. He doesn’t want to leave, so he will make these tables pristine. He enjoys the alone time with his best friend, as bars and things outside of work don’t happen very often. The athletic training room is the place where they spend the most time, as such, it’s the place where friendships are made.</p><p>—</p><p>The rules of the AT room are simple: no complaining, no foul language, and nothing but professionalism. The head trainer is strict, and everyone knows to follow the rules. Some people don’t, of course, but they got taken care of real quick. Buck and Eddie both know, if they want to keep their jobs, they can’t be anything more than friends. There was a few incidents that landed them with warnings. Buck with a few of the swimmers, and Eddie with, well, no one, except half the student body flirting with him. He never flirts back. He could have anyone he wanted, and he tells himself he never went for it because he loves his job and hates paperwork. But truthfully, there was something else that kept him holding back. He looked over at Buck, who was taping the shoulder of a tennis player. His enthusiasm is infectious, and he eminates what loving your job looks like. There’s no question that he loves his job. And he loves his athletes. Eddie isn’t like that. He cares, yes, but he isn’t like Buck. Sometimes he wishes he could be more like him, unabashedly loving to anyone around him. </p><p>After he finishes taping, Buck looks over at Eddie, who is watching a sprinter on the zero gravity treadmill. He is so concientious and serious. Nothing gets past him. Sometimes, Buck wishes he was more like that. Buck’s always been light and breezy, and never been the one to pay attention to the little things. Maybe it’s why the two are always assigned to the same sports. They work well together. Buck has the big picture covered and Eddie covers the details. Where Buck has the empathy, there’s Eddie with the more serious things. </p><p>--</p><p>“Week two of double headers.” Buck sighs, breathing in the stillness and the silence of the empty room before the chaos begins. Softball on Monday, baseball on Tuesday and a tennis tourney on Friday. Plus all of the regular practices. Buck thrives on the chaos, however, he still likes the silence once in a while. </p><p>“You ready, Buckley?” Eddie says as he comes through the door a few minutes after Buck. </p><p>“I was born ready, Diaz.” Buck grins. </p><p>“Let’s do this.” Eddie gestures to the athletes behind him. </p><p>30 minutes later, pre workout treatments are running smoothly and everything is alright. Buck is still pining over Eddie, but he can shove it down for the day. Eddie is still hiding his staring at Buck, but he can distract himself with the work. </p><p>There’s no room for anything but doing their jobs. So they do them. Nothing makes for a more perfectly taped ankle than concentrating on not staring at the man you’re in love with. </p><p>“You’re good to go,” Buck grins at his last patient for the morning, Emily. </p><p>“Thanks, Buck.” There was a time when Buck would flirt, and try to get lucky. But he wasn’t that man anymore. He was Buck 1.0 back then, and the work it took to create Buck 2.0, and then Buck 3.0. He just didn’t want to throw it away. And then he would look at Eddie, and want to light the work on fire. The feelings were undeniable and hard to control. But if Buck had learned one thing from chronic pain after an injury, it was how to bite down the pain and shove it away. </p><p>—</p><p>Braves are up by 3 and they’re up to bat. Emily taps her bat against the plate twice. The pitch comes through and the hit is perfect. Perfect, until it slices through the air into the third baseman’s nose.Typical Eddie, he’s the first person out there. He sees all. Buck’s right behind him. They work perfectly together, checking the player for a concussion, and setting her nose.There’s no confusion, because doing this, it’s easy. There’s no awkwardness when they reach for the same thing or when they tape the gauze. There’s no questioning the job.</p><p>It’s what happens after that leaves a lot of questions. After the game, the crowd is electric. But Buck and Eddie, they are calm. Cool. Collected.</p><p>“Heard anything about Teagan?” Buck says to clear the awkward silence.</p><p>“Who?” Eddie replies, restocking the tape supplies.</p><p>“The girl that got hit in the face with a softball.”</p><p>“Oh. Her. Yeah, she’s good. She’ll be back out there in a few days.”</p><p>“That’s great.”</p><p>“Greater still is that she thanked us. People don’t do that very often when they are dripping blood. Great end to a great day.”</p><p>There’s not a beat between Eddie’s words and when a Buck kisses him. Or when Eddie kisses back.</p><p>“Did that make it greater?” Buck says, his voice husky.</p><p>Instead of answering, Eddie kisses him again.</p>
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